I go to the homeless shelter to visit the men, to listen and encourage. I’ve made friends there. Last week, Ray was fuming. A new shelter rule infuriated him and someone had looted his knapsack. I listened. I encouraged … but I was an easy target. Ray seemed angry at me. I left without a word. I sat in my car, certain I’d never go back. Who did Ray think he was? I thought and prayed. I returned to the shelter. I found Ray and we said words that were needed … we said that we would see each other next week.